


Long Distance AU- chapter two

by eleanors_park



Category: The Lorien Legacies - Pittacus Lore
Genre: Long Distance AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 03:25:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11245341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleanors_park/pseuds/eleanors_park
Summary: After bumping into her, Sandor finds Devektra in the local supermarket in his neighborhood. Shocked, he sparks a conversation, and they go to have dinner together.





	Long Distance AU- chapter two

Sandor entered the busy supermarket at the morning hours, waiting for the doors to open up for him in his baggy jeans and a green t-shirt. Ha, he thought, if that only happened two nights ago. The freezing air of inside the shop took over him at once, unlike the sunny, warm weather outside. 

The market was large in size, and divided into clear sections. The checkout counters were by the door, along with stacks of small, blue carts to hold. There were four sets of wide, high shelves, two in each side and an aisle between them. On the left side of the shelves, where the counters ended, worked pharmacists in white jackets in the medicine part of the shop. Sandor walked ahead, starting out with the dairy products. If the air conditioner system wasn’t enough, the open fridges added to the cold. 

He didn’t need much, he was set in house stuff, just needed to fill his refrigerator. He took milk, butter, chocolate milk, some yogurts and put them in the cart he was carrying. After that, walking to the bread tables, he took his favorite kind, sliced up, and a bag of pasta. While doing so, he realized he probably needed a few bottles of water and soda, and silently muttered “shit”. He was already half into his buying, and really didn’t want to return with a cart on wheels, so he decided to leave it for tomorrow, he still had something to drink in his home. He grabbed already-made chicken breasts because he had no idea how to handle meat and threw them in the bag. 

Then, remembering he needed toilet paper, he returned to the shelves, the end of one, or start, depending from where you were standing. He was again by the door as he took two small packages, and guessed that he was finishing. He preferred short trips to the supermarket rather than long ones. Half an hour, and he was done. He just needed fruits and vegetables, which were right in front of him, but he took one step forward and his breath got stuck in his throat.

The singer from the club, Devektra, was leaning over one of the boxes that was full of red apples. She took hold of one, her nails almost matching it, and examined it with her beautiful sea eyes before she placed it inside her plastic bag. She was wearing a red and black striped shirt and a pair of short jeans. If he was here, he would go with simple flip-flops, but she had brown leather heels with a little knot. The most surprising thing was, her hair wasn’t white, it was blonde and soft looking. He almost didn’t recognize her, but her face was special.

He couldn’t just stand there so he snapped out of his standstill and casually stepped towards the first box of bananas, hoping she would notice him. Being closer to her, he saw she was wearing two golden rings on her right hand. He reminded himself he didn’t want to get food poisoning, or worst, rotten bananas, and half focused on that. 

She did notice him and couldn’t believe the odds. Of all places, she ran into him in this store. Maybe if she came a few minutes earlier, or too late, she wouldn’t had seen him. Even without lights shining on him, there was still something about him that made her feel like he was different. He had a green shirt that said “Chicago University of Science” on the back, which made him look like a huge dork, and it was cute in her eyes.

She tried to get close enough without looking like she was planning to get closer until the gap between them seemed good enough so he could hear her. “Hey,” she said, “Remember me?”

He turned his face to her and his emerald colored eyes stood up against the white background behind him. He looked at her, his eyes going up and down, as if he was trying to think of the last time he saw her. “Oh yeah. You’re the singer from the club, Devektra. Hi,” he said. He was really bad at lying. She appreciated his effort to keep it cool, though.

“And you are?” she shifted the bag in her hand and held it out for him.

He dropped the act. “Sandor,” he answered, shaking her hand. She was surprisingly warm, which took him off guard.

“Nice to meet you, Sandor,” she repeated his name and walked to the other side of the boxes, putting oranges in her bag. He concentrated again and took some apples, too. She watched him while his head was down, licking the side of her mouth as she thought of a question. “Are you gonna tell me why you were trying to get into my dressing room in the club?”

He lifted his head and paused his eyes on her, that was when a slight shade of red spread on his face. “I-I didn’t know you were there,” he explained. “I spilled some guy’s drink and he started to run after me. I didn’t feel like getting any stitches in a hospital room or a black eye that day so I was looking for a place to stay at until he’d calm down.”

His sarcastic tone made her smile. “I had a feeling.”

Five minutes later and they were in the self checkout counter with their backs to each other. He attemped to walk slowly and not look like he was waiting for her to start scanning her stuff in the same time he did. “So, is it your first time here?” he asked.

“In Chicago? Nah, I’ve been here a few times before,” she turned to look behind her shoulder at him.

“No, I meant, like, in this supermarket,” he talked to the box of cereal he was passing through the scanner. “I thought you had people who do it for you.”

“So you’re asking me if I come here often?” she giggled. He rolled his eyes with a smirk on his lips. “In France I have, but not a lot of people know me here. Not as many as in France, anyway. So I go now and then, and sometimes I don’t. Makes me feel like I’m not locked away out of places because of the possibility paparazzi will attack me with cameras.”

He laughed in response. It felt nice, to have a conversation with her. It was calming although he didn’t know her, the jokes and friendly atmosphere made their little talk enjoyable. He found himself getting more curious about her in every second that passed.

“Welp, I’m done here,” she turned around, holding her hands up. All the stuff she bought was already in plastic bags in the end of the counter, ready for her to take it. “Listen, would you like to drink some coffee later? Nothing obligating, only if you want to.”

His heart began to beat. “Sure, that would be great,” Just coffee, he thought. Just coffee. “There’s actually a new restaurant near my house and I heard it’s really good. If you don’t have anything else in mind, we can go there,” he suggested.

“I was hoping you’d offer something. What is the address?” she opened a note in her phone and wrote down the name and street he showed her after searching in his own mobile. She nodded and gathered her bags as he scanned his last product. 

“So…” he said as he looked at her standing in front of him with a look of goodbye in her eyes.

“I’ll see you in seven?” she interrupted, but it wasn’t rude. It was kind of hopeful. Every now and then it felt as if she was reading his mind or could feel his feelings, like she knew exactly what to say.

“Yeah,” he said and just like in the club she gave him a final smile, leaving him again.

She came back almost as fast as she left. The time had passed so fast it seemed surreal to him, flew by in a blur. He had returned back home with his groceries, putting them all into place. After it, he remembered sitting in the couch, checking his phone, staring at the TV. Stomping with his feet on his floor. Realizing he was just sitting doing nothing, he grabbed his tablet and opened his latest file, beginning to work. The clock’s numbers changed and he found himself dressing in the mirror, pulling the sides of his jacket and running his fingers through his hair. It was chilly outside, and the restaurant had a bit of class, so he couldn’t come with something he’d wear for the supermarket.

He checked the hour. 6:40 PM. He could have stayed home for a while longer, but he had a ten minutes walk and he preferred to be early rather then find himself still in the street at 7 and panic. He took his wallet from the kitchen table and counted how much money he had. Thinking it was enough, he slid it into his back pocket, held his phone and left.

Entering the sidewalk, he was glad he decided to wear a jacket. It was indeed cold, he could see his breath if he tried to. The walk would warm him, he thought. He wondered what she was doing. Probably getting ready, or already on her way. He asked himself where she lived, if she even had an apartment. If she did, it wasn’t here, because he would had known. The entire block would. Maybe she was staying at a hotel, the thought caused him to scrunch his nose, since he couldn’t see himself living in a such tiny place that didn’t actually feel like home. Yeah, she probably has an apartment somewhere, he nodded. He wanted to know what it looked like, how she acted in her house. It made his walk nice, imagining her swirling in her house, singing in French.

He got the chance during the day to search her songs, her performances. The songs were incredible, he even found translated lyrics to the ones in French, but he didn’t need to understand them to see her greatness. Her live shows were in a category of their own, from the choreography to the accessories and outfits all the top to her powerful voice. She got the audience glued with their eyes on her, a shinning poet on a stage. So far she had released four albums and gone on two tours. He may or may not had purchased some of her songs.

His walk came to an end before he knew it and he was facing the restaurant. It looked like a big, well built wooden cabin with a porch for outside sitters and a couple of couches too. Glass windows and the main door stood against the brown shade as he approached, where a cheerful guy with mocha skin was holding a book. 

“Good evening, sir,” he greeted him.

“Hey,” he suddenly got out of his nonchalant state. “I ordered a seat for two on the phone.”

“What’s your name?” the host smiled at him, then looked at the book.

“Sandor Worthington.”

“Oh, yes, right this way,” he closed the book shut and stepped deeper into the restaurant, to a table almost in the back corner, right next to the window. A weight was lifted from his heart as he considered the table a good place. Not in the middle of the crowd but not exactly pushed to the point where they’d feel trapped. He stopped at the word “they.” He was happy for her, guessing she wouldn’t want to be in the center, exposed to people who might ask her who he was or asking for a photo.

“Thank you,” he said as he sat down. The chairs had small, yellow pillows on them, and they sure felt comfortable to sit on. Overall, the restaurant was warmer, not in temperature alone, than what it seemed on the outside. The colors were bright and gave a feeling of opening up. He was offered the menu, but declined. It would be rude of him to take it before she was here. A waiter did put a basket looking plate full of sliced bread, for the general politeness. 

He found himself being impatient. Not because she hadn’t shown up yet, but because he wanted her to. Only five minutes had passed, and he was excited to see her. He raised his gaze from his phone and that was when he saw her.

She was walking slowly between the tables, looking for his face. The side of her hair was pushed behind her ear and she was holding a jacket to her stomach, her hands were covered by it. Her shirt looked chafing, black with miniature, irregular fading white dots with a pair of jeans that matched the shirt. Her boots were also dark and had a thick heel. He was going to get up and call her when she looked at him, her face lit up as she began to move faster.

“Hey,” even with his eyes closed, he could picture the happiness in her voice while she took her seat. “How are you? Have you been waiting for a long time?” she asked as she hanged her jacket around the chair and got out her phone, clicking for the hour.

“No, no, it’s okay,” he brushed her worried questions off. He was really happy to see her, and he barely knew why. “And I’m fine, thanks. You?”

“I’m great,” she grinned. Her red heart shaped earring caught his eye and he noticed her shirt was almost backless. She looked at the table, then him, picking up the clues. “You have been waiting for me, haven’t you?”

“W-Well, I didn’t want to start anything without you…” he explained. Afraid of awkward silence, he brought up the thing he had been craving to talk about the most. “I listened to some of your songs, you’re very good,” he said.

“Aw, thank you,” she brushed her hair in a gesture of blushing. She didn’t know if he could see it, but she was interested in getting to know him. She was since the moment they bumped into each other.

“How is it? How do you handle being famous like that? I can’t imagine people knowing my name wherever I go,” Talking with his hands, she remarked in her mind. Cute. 

“I chose this life, so I can’t really complain about it,” one time she was asked the same question. “I’m very grateful for my fans and everyone who has supported me and still is supporting me, and yes, sometimes it gets hard, but I knew it was bound to happen and I still chose that path,” she shrugged, not wanting to weigh on the conversation. “But let’s stop talking about me, I do interviews almost every other week,” she leaned forward. “I wanna know about you.”

Her speaking mesmerized him, as if she didn’t need a song to speak beautiful lyrics, and instead of using them, she wanted to listen to him. “I’m 23, I’m a mechanical engineer at the University of Science,” he began, stuck, wondering what could he say about himself. “I live by myself although the university has dorms. I’m not a first year student so they let us work from home, if we don’t have any classes. I’ve loved building and messing with stuff since middle grade. My favorite color is green, my favorite subject in school was physics,” he moved his hand in a “They always ask those two so I answered” way. “I don’t have any brothers or sisters; I know I’m pretty intelligent when it comes to engineering. I may seem pretentious because I get bored easily because I’m a fast learner…” he finished talking quietly, with worry of how she might react to his surprising declaration.

There was a pause and they looked into each other eyes before she broke the ice. “I have a cat and some awards in my house,” she laughed mid-sentence and couldn’t keep her attempt of being funny.

“Some,” he looked to the side and her again, her laughter made it impossible not to join and he was giggling with her too over her bad joke. It was something she had done earlier too, making him laugh, cheering him up.

He almost forgot where they were and needed a second to comprehend the waiter interrupting them. “Can I offer you the menu?” they asked, two laminated papers in their hands.

Sandor looked over to Devektra, who was nodding in agreement. “Yeah, sure,” he said.

“Thank you,” she added and her expression changed with concern and apology. “Do you mind if I eat? I wasn’t home all day.”

“I’m actually pretty hungry too, so no problem,” he sniggered. They picked what seemed to be the best, since none of them had visited this restaurant before. Devektra ordered a plate of sweet potato ravioli because “How bad can they mess it up?” and he chose cream sauce pasta.

“So what are you doing in Chicago?” he asked, rolling the pasta strings around the fork while she poured water from the heavy pitcher into her glass. He closed his mouth around the fork, and the taste of the cheesy cream filled his mouth in an instant. The sound of people talking, plates being served on the tables and waitress walking back and forth filled the air.

“Recording,” she took a sip. “A producer I work with is here, so I figured I should take the chance. I thought that a small show would be nice and I also have a photoshoot here.” Stabbing one of the pastry squares, she shuffled it around the sauce and bite it. The potato was indeed sweet and well cooked, and tasty to eat. “What about you? How is your work?”

He understood he caused her to talk about herself again, and she was trying to change the subject back to him. “I study until two o’clock and when I come home I work on some projects and design stuff. We have two tests in a month, but the projects we hand in are more important. I barely even switch classes, we have only a couple of professors. Sometimes the pressure gets difficult to handle, but I love what I’m doing.”

She listened to him with fascinated eyes, unable to look away. It wasn’t because of how he looked, which was really great, but because she would take his place if she could. “That sounds so interesting,” she said quietly. “I wish I could learn something new and have so much passion for it.”

She managed to surprise him once more. It was strange to hear, that she wanted something he had. He imagined it would be the other way around. “I get why you think you can’t, but it’s never too late, you know? You always have a chance.”

Her eyes shined as she smirked and moved around her fork against the china plate. “I’ll keep it in mind,” she said. From the transparent window, she could see the dark sky and trees fighting to stay in place. “Wow, it’s getting really windy outside, isn’t it?”

Sandor turned around to look in her direction. “Yeah…” he said, and they started to talk about all sort of stuff as if in a magic trick. They discussed about the weather and countries they’d go to where the sun was shining. She mentioned Australia, clutching her chest, and said she would fly there to the deep blue sea and warm beaches. They talked about England and how it was raining there all the time, and got to an awful update of a specific app and the new phone that would be released in a week. He almost gasped when she told him she preferred iPhone, since he considered the developers of Android to be gods. She threw her hands up, claiming in defense she signed a contract with Apple and that she basically had to buy it.

“Okay, okay,” she nodded, trying to settle the hot debate. “If you were stuck on an island and you were allowed to get only one thing, what would it be?” she said as a waiter placed two cups of coffee on the table. After finishing their meals, she suggested they should order coffee so a part of their initial plan would stay. 

“A boat that never sinks,” he replied as if he was saying “what else would a sane person get?” and brought the cup to his lips.

“Nice, mine would be a box full of superpowers. The first one being telepathy,” she wrapped her hands under the handle and followed his action. 

“Why that specifically?” it was difficult not to laugh because of her quick answer. She sounded so sure of her choice and her level of confident was funny.

“So I could contact someone to rescue me. The second power would be voice manipulation, because it’s kind of my thing.”

When the coffee marks got almost to the end of her glass and the music changed soft jazz almost on cue, he leaned forward and asked in a low voice, “Is Chicago any different from Paris?”

“Oh, very,” she put her cup down. “In Paris the streets and houses are made of stone. Everything feels historical and vintage, like the people who lived there really left a mark. Here it’s all tall glass buildings and flashy ads, everyone is moving so quickly. This city never seems to be asleep.” She looked into his green eyes for a second and broke into a smile.

“You make Paris sound really peaceful,” he commented. 

“It is, it really is,” still grinning, she pressed the home button of her phone and saw the hour was almost 10 PM. “Oh god, look at the time. I need to get up early tomorrow.”

“Do you want to finish up for today?” he asked, checking in his own phone. 

“Yeah. I’m guessing you need to get up early too, don’t you?” Seeing him holding his phone, she said, “Do you mind if I have your number?”

He muttered “No,” and read his number to her out loud as she typed it into her phone. She hit save and clicked on the ring button. “So you’ll know it’s me,”

In the meantime, the bill was put on their table and Sandor snapped it away before she could reach out. “Don’t you even think about paying everything,” he laughed and she watched him as he read it.

“I pay for myself, you pay for yourself?” she offered. Agreeing, he got his wallet out of his back pocket and they both began to count how much they have. Soon, dollar bills and small coins were speared on the silver plate. While they waited to get the change back, Devektra thought about the evening they had and was filled with joy. She went out to dinner with friends, but this one was felt different to her. She knew it wasn’t the place, or the time, it was him, and that was the only explanation she found. 

They got the change and left all of it as a tip anyway. They both stood up, not knowing what to say with the feeling of goodbye on their chests. She wanted so badly to offer him to go to her house, just so the night wouldn’t end, but it was too bold and pushy, and she needed to get a good sleep. 

“You should probably wait until I’m out,” it was painful for her to say that they couldn’t leave together. “The photographers might still be outside and I don’t want you to get harassed because of me,” 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he covered his mouth with his hand, thinking about what she said. “Thanks for worrying, though.”

“Sure. Well, good night,” she took a step backwards, not wanting to look away until the last possible minute. “I had a really good time, bye!” she held her hand to him and turned around. Leaving him behind, she held her hands to her chest, blushing, and her jacket was hanging down from it. She pushed the door with her free hand and a flash light came towards her in an instance. 

He did as she told him and waited a minute after he saw her exiting through the door. Like in the club and earlier in the supermarket, he was hoping she would turn around. Please, turn around. I’m looking at you. The human brain has the ability to know if someone is looking at it. Scientifically, you should turn around. Turn around. 

He was sure that she was a mind reader when she did, smiling him so sweetly he melt. Either that or someone told her the feeling of hope she was bringing him every time she turned around, and he didn’t think that was possible. He remembered her box of superpowers and how she said she’d pick telepathy first.

One hell of a hero, he thought.


End file.
